White Lies
by Glycogenesis
Summary: To Shigure, it was all a simple bet between him and Akito. He had no qualms about seducing Tohru. But as his white lies obscured into truths, he could no longer live without fear of hiding, love without fear of losing, and lie without fear of regretting. ON HIATUS
1. White Death

**_White Lies: _**_A collaboration with Hitsugi Zirkus.  
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_We own nothing to Fruits Basket and its characters. _

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**_Prologue: White Death_**

_To love is to destroy…_

The fading remnants of Ren's words echoed in Shigure Sohma's mind once again as he watched her coffin being lowered into the deep grave. Showers of white chrysanthemums rained on the black coffin, covering up its sleek, smooth surface. A few raindrops fell from the bleak sky, bejeweling the blooms' petals like diamond droplets. Although the autumn rain wasn't in season, it fell heavily upon the darkly dressed figures surrounding the open grave, silhouetting them.

Amidst the somberly dressed figures, one woman stood out, wearing a white kimono. The rain's mist created a halo around her petite frame, and the broken petals of white chrysanthemums pooled around her feet. Raven hair wreathed around her ashen, porcelain face, and dark, dispassionate eyes stared dully at the white blooms that covered the coffin's lid like a carpet of white death. Pearly, white fabric clung to her skin, doing nothing to hide her feminine form, and Akito Sohma was every bit as deathly beautiful as her mother once was.

_She truly has come far from being the one raised as a man all her life_, Shigure mused as his gaze flickered over to her. With the Zodiac curse broken, and the nature of her gender revealed, Akito took to the custom of dressing more like a woman and even let her short, black hair grow out. Shigure wondered mildly if Akito would let her tresses get as long as her mother's had been, whose locks appeared as a black waterfall down her pale, naked back…

And speaking of Ren, it was her portrait that Akito held in her arms. But Shigure knew better. He and the whole Sohma family knew that Akito bore no warmth towards her mother, and having Ren lifeless before all of them did nothing to shatter the callous, emotionless mask Akito always wore.

The funeral service continued distantly, or maybe it was just Shigure who felt a million miles away from here. But he could feel it: Akito's abysmal eyes staring straight at him as the family paid their respects to the dead Ren. Even as light winds picked up and others began to shiver from the cold, Akito remained oblivious to her surroundings and kept her unwavering attention focused on the dark-haired man.

Could she sense it? Could she sense how he was tormenting her so? Shigure wore a suit that day, looking every bit as refined as a mourner should be. Mourning for Ren. Shigure could practically read Akito's mad, fragile thoughts: _You miss her, don't you? You'll miss her, you'll yearn for her, but now it's just me. No more walls, and no more secrets. You're mine now_.

Shigure almost chuckled at the thought. He felt a presence shift near him, and he looked over to see Ayame's eyes silently ask if he was alright. He offered a small smile in assurance, and remained as composed as he always was, even when Hatori's warm hand offered mild solace as it lightly gripped his shoulder. They really were his best friends, but even they couldn't comprehend how deep the tension was between him and Akito. Shigure's friends didn't know that with the hands he had in his pockets, he had explored that frail body of Ren Sohma's; that with his lips, he marked her even when he unknowingly visualized another beneath him…

As the funeral service finally came to a close, the sleek black coffin was lowered, dragging the pure, white chrysanthemums with it. The wind picked up once more, rustling the grass and everyone's hair lightly. Before the chrysanthemums could all disappear underneath the earth, one snowy bloom, carried by the wind, landed at Shigure's feet. He was the only one who noticed its insignificant existence while everyone else's gaze was directed at Akito. Most of the Sohmas crowded to her side, fussing over her and trying to appease to her foul, stormy moods in case she had one. That, of course, was pointless considering the blatant hatred Akito always harbored for her mother.

"This rain can't be good for Akito's health," Hatori commented, his gaze falling on the head of the family. "Really now, of all days to plan a funeral… I'll see to it that she gets home as soon as possible. I'm assuming you two are coming?"

"Goodness no!" Ayame cried dramatically, flipping back tresses of his long, silvery hair. "I plan to bathe as soon as I can." He cast Hatori a sly look. "Perhaps Gure-san and I will summon you later to share some of my delicious tea, Tori-san!"

"I can't possibly attend to _everyone_ in the family," the dark-haired man muttered sardonically, casting a hand to his temples.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't join you this time either, Hatori," Shigure sighed, conjuring up his playful persona. "I have to take the kiddies home, you know." By that, he meant Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru, all of whom who still lived under his roof and also attended the funeral. Even Tohru, who wasn't officially part of the Sohma family, but Kyo had insisted fervently that if he was required to go, he'd take the young girl with him.

"In that case, I'll be leaving now," Hatori announced, heading over to Akito's side with a protesting Ayame in tow.

Shigure's dark eyes were cast down, and he saw that the chrysanthemum from Ren's grave still sat at his feet. He bent to pick it up, aware that the petals still stood upright despite the raindrops that continued to burst upon it. Rising, he twirled the stem of the bloom between his forefinger and thumb. Feeling that familiar, intense gaze on him once again, he looked up and met Akito's stoic, black eyes regarding him silently.

Turning away from Akito, he tucked the chrysanthemum into his suit pocket.

A smile slowly formed on his lips.


	2. Shrouded in Moonlight

**Chapter 1: Shrouded in Moonlight**

Akito sighed in rapture, her lithe body relaxing as she and Shigure both reached release. Her fingers finally unclenched themselves from his dark hair, sliding down from his shoulders and then his arms. His gaze locked with hers and the expression within his abysmal eyes was as unfathomable as ever.

Shigure never looked at her with any obvious affection, never kissed her tenderly, never caressed her gently. He was the very opposite of Kureno Sohma, who had shared her bed on more than one occasion.

But was that really relevant? After all, she had Shigure now. Ren was no longer an obstruction, and now this man was hers—in body, spirit, and _now_, in mind.

"Did that satisfy you?" she coyly asked as her slim fingertips skimmed lightly across his collarbone. Smiling coquettishly at him, she traced the line of his jaw back and forth. "To be honest, you're not bad as I thought," she whispered as she placed a cold kiss against the tender skin of his cooling, feverish skin. Shifting her body closer to Shigure, Akito nestled her cheek against his shoulder.

Amused, Shigure chuckled and lightly remarked, "To be honest, I'm surprised you're not showing the least bit of remorse for your dead mother, Akito."

Her dark eyes flared angrily at the mention of her deceased parent. She tugged on the blanket around her sticky, cold shoulders. "You expect me to feel something for that creature...that _madwoman_...when she may just as well cast her illusions on her only child?" she hissed through gritted teeth. Miffed by his words, Akito's lips were drawn into a thin, disdained line. Then, just as quickly, a small smile played upon her lips and her eyes darkened. "I think her death was long overdue."

Shigure looked over at her, eliciting his own dark chuckle. "You're referring to her relationship with Akira?" he inquired knowingly.

For a moment, Akito did not reply and turned away from him. Staring out the opened window, she observed the dusky twilight sky, finding herself enamored by the slightly cloudy heavens. The pearly moon and stars in the sky were shadowed by the lavender-tinted clouds, resembling a clogged sky choking on itself. Conscious of her own actions, Akito raised a hand to her own pale, slender neck and closed her fingers around it, but she stopped herself, almost indignantly.

"My father was a kind man," she murmured softly as her eyes stared listlessly at the cloudy heavens. "He believed there was goodness in every twisted, tormented, dark heart, even though in reality, there wasn't any there." Her sentence came out like a hiss, and both knew who she was referring to.

Akito let out a defeated sigh and sat up, using her arms as support on the futon. The fabric of the blanket whispered across her skin as it gently fell back, letting the moonlight bathe her collarbone and breasts in the darkness.

"He let that bitch taint him. She injected herself into his heart like poison, and in the end, he died a lonely, pathetic death," she stated, somewhat calmly, as she reached out a hand to caress the empty air. "She went insane. She had no one to corrupt anymore, no one to possess. Because that's what she feeds off on, I'm sure—possessing others, like a phantom."

Throughout her little speech, Shigure had looked at her with no change in his expression. He never mentioned how she shouldn't talk down on the woman who gave birth to her. But such things would never sway Akito. It would only exhume a new string of her painful past: of being marked as the god of the zodiac—the sole being who was responsible for their curse. Akito never asked to be born. And of course, she didn't want to die either, especially since her mother was already sleeping beneath the rain-soaked earth…

Shigure smiled placidly as he rested his chin on his hand. "A phantom, you say?"

"Can you think of another word for someone so dead, so lost, but still so..._influential_?" Akito whispered as her lips set into a distasteful line.

Shigure noticed the cold teasing her nipples, and moved over to caress her pale breast. Akito allowed him to do so while inclining her head in thought. "Ren was like that. I kept her in a room and locked her away from everyone, and yet she still found a way to plague the whole household. She tainted all she could sway..." Her flinty, black eyes suddenly glanced at Shigure, almost glaring pointedly at him.

The dark-haired man smirked lightly before leaning forward to kiss the tender skin between her neck and shoulder. "Do I still sense a hint of anger in you? Are you _that_ upset about what I did with her?" he softly asked.

His warm breath was fleeting on the wintry skin of her swan-pale neck. Smoothing away the midnight locks at the nape of her neck with his hand, he placed a small kiss there. "Women's hearts are such an abyss of hate and anger...revenge and impurity, don't you agree?"

Akito froze at his words. All her life, she had been raised as a boy—talked like one, acted like one, and behaved like one, taking on gentleman's manners. And all the while, she had always believed that women were such wicked and disgusting things. Her mother, her maids, that wild Horse and weak Tiger, and _that_ girl called Tohru... had all defied her, the god of the zodiac. They all beguiled the world with their so-called _purity_ when they were all just skillful sluts. _How filthy they are_, she remembered sneering on more than one occasion

_And how helpless…_

When she heard Shigure murmur those cruel words to her, she felt momentarily tainted and fragile like a…like a woman. It was what she had feared all along. In the end, she was like them no matter how hard she tried to erase, kill, _murder_ every last trace of femininity in her being. No. She _can't _and will _never_ be like them. White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

"Do not group me in the same category as _them_," she sneered as her face contorted with cold rage. Her hand struck him hard in the chest as she pushed him away from her. She shot up, bringing the blanket with her to wrap around her petite form.

Shigure didn't seem the slightest bit ruffled by Akito's harsh comments and vehement reactions. He tilted his head at her inquiringly, eyes glittering in the darkness. "But you know you can't escape her," he remarked lightly, a mocking smile on his face. "You said it yourself, didn't you? That she is like a phantom – even in _death_. She seems to be following you."

Akito's eyes widened at his statement, almost in fear. She could swear that she felt her vision blur with unshed tears. A haunting chill prickled her skin, but she suppressed it, quickly melting away her terror with hot fury. "There _is_ no way!" she screamed, gripping the blanket ever tighter around herself. "She is _dead_. Her body is decaying like her soul has been all these years! She's fucking dead, and that whore will never _ever_ come back!" She paused, collecting her breath and gauging her lover's reactions.

Shigure remained silent. He had many comebacks he could think of, but he knew better than to immediately satisfy himself by saying them. He had to punish Akito first and string her along just a little bit more while all her carefully concealed wounds and hatred were still fresh with searing blood. He stood up, still naked, and approached her. His fingers gripped onto her chin, forcing her to face him.

She met his gaze challengingly. "What?" she hissed with contempt.

Shigure leaned in closer, and her body tensed. His lips were just inches from her own. His hot breath teased her frosty lips open, and her eyelids almost fluttered closed. For a moment, they both stopped breathing.

Pushing his fingers into her hair, Shigure drew her face towards his and whispered in her ear, "Yes, that desire to possess and to control—how very much like a _woman_."

Akito drew her hand back and slapped him. Instinctively, Shigure raised a hand to his face, fingering the red welt forming on his cheek.

"Silence," she snapped.

She turned away from him in a huff, gathering up her scattered clothes from the floor and keeping the blanket ever tighter around her. She wanted to get away from him, but at the same time she wanted to curl up in his arms. It was always those ambivalent desires that continuously torment her. In a hurry to collect her apparel, she accidentally picked up Shigure's pants, and a white flash crashed to the floor. Akito widened her eyes upon seeing it.

_A pure-white chrysanthemum_...

She gingerly picked it up, feeling the soft bloom tickle against her palm. She snarled in disdain and flung it at his chest. "Get that piece of trash out of this manor," she screeched, stalking out the room in a dark huff. In a furious mantra, her mind screamed, She _won't, can't, remain here anymore—not any part of her!_

Shigure watched Akito stormed out the room then looked down at the chrysanthemum snuggled into the sheets of the bed. Not one part of it was trampled nor broken, even after being mishandled in the past few hours. He picked it up for the second time and went to the silver waste basket beside the window. The chrysanthemum dangled helplessly as he held it by its stem over the basket.

_Such a woman...such a phantom..._

It couldn't be said for certain who Shigure was thinking of—Akito or Ren. After all, he despised and loved them both.

Mirthlessly, he thought, _Just how similar are you to this fragile bloom? How is any woman..._

_No, _**any**_ person different__?_

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**A/N: **Next chapter: The Seed of Doubt.

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